The Snow Queen
by Pappillon
Summary: (Diamonds human AU, Starring Yeva as Yellow Diamond, Rozie as Pink, and the Snow Queen as White.) Will Yeva be able to melt the Snow Queen's icy heart?
1. Chapter 1

Yeva began each morning that winter by chopping wood. Rising at four, before the sun brought any warmth, she went outside with her axe and reduced the logs to smaller, more manageable pieces.

Her sister Rozie yelled from the back door, " _Yeva! Good morning!_ "

Upon finding Rozie not yet dressed, and her round cheeks pinkened by the cold, Yeva put the axe down and replied, "Rozie! Get dressed before you come out! It's freezing!"

"But _Yeva_ —" Rozie tossed back her head of straw-blonde hair, collapsing onto her knees. "It's cold _anyway_."

Yeva went in to keep Rozie from coming out and scolded her while scooping her up. Kissing her bright face, she carried her back to her room where the stove continued to burn, and bade her to dress as she absconded to prepare breakfast.

Yeva, tall and lean, was the sort of woman who ate twelve eggs each morning and an entire loaf of bread for lunch. After cooking for Rozie and seeing her to school, she either spent the morning building furniture or bringing the pieces she had already made to those who had ordered them.

Sometimes she would receive commissions from the city nearby, meeting with pale aristocrats that summoned her by letter, signed and sealed in gold. They would see Yeva, or perhaps their servants would, and without fail, give her a look.

Brows bent, they scrutinized her mass of dark golden hair to her tall, muscular legs fitted into brown boots. They studied her form when, more often than not, she didn't bother hiding it beneath a dress, showing up instead in overalls with a winter coat. Regardless of these looks, she shook their soft, snow-white hands. They tended to widen their eyes at the strength of her grasp before moving on to furniture.

That Saturday, Yeva took Rozie into the city, piling handsome chairs into their cart to display. Their black horse, Ivan, brought them to the center of town, where Yeva stood, sipping from a hot mug of coffee. Rozie, meanwhile, preached the virtue of Yeva's work to anyone who wandered near enough. In a loud and high-pitched voice, she announced, "Excuse me! Do you need new furniture? My sister makes the best chairs and tables ever, and she can do any size and any pattern!"

Having this strange child holler at them caused the people to laugh. Yeva watched as excellently dressed men and women covered their mouths with refined hands. Their faces turned as pink as Rozie's cheeks. Usually following her, they would greet Yeva, perhaps comment on how cute Rozie was, and observe the perfectly symmetrical lines she had constructed, the coat of clean polish over the wood, or the patterns painstakingly carved into the tops of chairs or the surface of a table. They might not buy anything, but they would remember.

When Rozie tired of hollering, she pulled on her sister's sleeve to ask for money. "Yeva! Can I have some silver, _please?_ " Driving her boots into the snow, she hung onto Yeva's arm and dangled, swinging back and forth on her heels. At that point, her face became so pink, and her hair so perfectly disheveled, that no mortal could resist her. Bits of straw came to interrupt her enormous eyes as she yanked Yeva's coat off kilter, whispering, " _Pleeeease?_ "

"Rozie, what do you need money for? You're eight."

"But _Yeva!_ You said you would let me buy a chocolate roll, and we've been out here _all day_ and I was good all week!" She sank into the snow, hiding Yeva's hand by drawing out her sleeve.

"It's only been an hour."

"But I did all of my homework and you _promised_. Don't you want one too?"

"Let go of my sleeve, Rozie. I can't reach into my pocket otherwise."

" _Yay!_ " Rozie fell into the snow and created a powdery haze. Giggling, she rolled around in it, causing people across the street to laugh.

She sprang up, however, when Yeva produced two silver coins, took them, and dashed to the baker's, kicking up a mild avalanche in time with her labored breaths.

"Two chocolate rolls!" Yeva called, "and nothing else!"

Rozie didn't answer. She was too busy driving the snow from the street.

Yeva would watch her and catch the ice sculpture the townspeople would leave out on the first day of winter. They had set the Snow Queen in alignment with her alleged castle in the distance, if observed at a certain angle, on a cloudy day. No matter how many times Yeva looked, she had never found it.

Given the unkind temperatures all winter, the Queen never altered much. Some days, she might have gained a layer of snow around her shoulders and at the bottom of her skirts, as if she wore the fur of an arctic fox. The details of her attire stayed intact—the icy jewels adorning her crown, and the delicate snowflake-like lace of her gown.

When she had melted completely, the townspeople would hold a festival in celebration that the winter truly had ended. Yeva and Rozie usually went together. While the temperature was still nippy, the air didn't carry the deep freeze capable of infiltrating bone marrow. The people would joke that the Snow Queen had run away, like they would joke she was angry on bitter days.

On her way back with whatever she wanted, Rozie stopped to look at her too. Clutching the paper bag, she gaped into the Snow Queen's face before running to Yeva.

Rozie returned with the chocolate rolls and crashed into the snow at Yeva's feet. She didn't say anything, but inflated, eyes wide open as she unintentionally scrunched her neck and made numerous rolls. Yeva laughed but Rozie spoke seriously.

"Did you know," she began, "that my birthday is soon?"

"Yes, I know."

Rozie paused, exhaling loudly. "I know what I want."

"Okay," Yeva said.

"There's a pink rabbit in the shop window over there and she's so cute and pretty and I'll show you—"

"Show me when we're about to leave."

Rozie had pulled herself out of the snow by a few inches but fell back down.

"Get up. You're going to get cold."

"You'll get it for me, right, Yeva?" She seemed to sink further into the ground.

"I'll consider it if you stand up."

Rozie sat but didn't stand, looking up at her older sister as the rolls fell onto her lap. Yeva offered her hand, which Rozie took and came to her feet. "I stood up," she said.

"I saw," Yeva replied.

Once the day had ended and Yeva had packed up her cart with the remaining furniture, Rozie took her to the toy store. She ran ahead by several feet and kicked up a snow storm in the process, coming to a violent stop before the window, directly in front of a fluffy, pink rabbit.

The poor thing was composed of so much fluff and so much pink that she embodied the essence of cotton candy. Two enormous black button eyes made indents in her sugary fur, and two fat pink ears sprouted from the top of her head. Like a true princess, she dressed tastefully in a red polka dotted gown, a plump bow around her neck. As if to take a better look at the rouge carefully applied to her cheeks, Rozie had placed her face against the glass, meeting her price tag of ten silver coins.

"Isn't she beautiful?" Her breath fogged up the barrier between her and the rabbit. She imparted her story into the window, "When we were standing over there, I picked out a name for her. She's going to be Lady Felicity and she's in love with Dr. Spots."

Dr. Spots was Rozie's aging calico doll. Yeva had constructed wire glasses for him, so he could better assist his patients, who always gave their friends glowing reviews.

Yeva pulled her away and, with her sleeve, cleaned the smudges Rozie had left. "I can see why you like her."

"Well?" Her eyes were as glossy as the rabbit's.

"' _Well?_ ' I'm considering it. Let's head home."

Rozie lingered before following, puffing up with a sigh she slowly released. Yeva felt her inflate again as she set her in the cart, taking an adjacent spot. One of her plump cheeks fell onto Yeva's arm and Ivan began walking amongst the start of a light snowfall.

"Patience," Yeva told her. "You would have to wait for your birthday anyway."

"But I love her _now_ ," Rozie said, her sister wrapping an arm around her for the journey home.


	2. Chapter 2

That Saturday was the sort of day that prompted the townspeople to comment, "The Snow Queen must be upset." Some had made wreaths of paper flowers to place upon the sculpture's neck after brushing the frost from her shoulders.

Yeva would normally take Rozie with her into town, but even the windows of their modest house threatened to shatter from the cold. Having chopped additional wood and prepared the cart, Yeva came to Rozie's room and found her near the stove.

"Are we going today, Yeva?"

"No, Rozie. I want you to stay here."

Rozie didn't contradict her.

"I've stocked the pantry for you, and there's plenty of firewood if you need more. In the event of an emergency, what should you do?"

"Contact the neighbors?"

"Yes," Yeva lingered. "You'll be good, won't you?"

Rozie tilted her head and bent her lips, asking, "Why don't you just stay here? It's so awful outside…"

"If I stay here I can't buy you birthday gifts."

" _Gifts?_ You mean _more than one?_ " Rozie wrapped her arms around her sister's waist and buried her face into her coat. "Thank you!"

Yeva patted Rozie's head and ventured into the cold.

Where she would have normally carried out the chairs and tables, she left them in the shed and brought Ivan to town. Despite the frigid air, he moved quickly between the empty cart and a fortunate lack of wind. No disarming breeze blew by, and snow fell straight downward as Ivan's hooves crunched the frost beneath them. The scene blurred white with faraway mountains blanketed beneath a solid grey sky.

Town stood as still, with the Snow Queen the only one out in such temperatures. Her sharp features had dulled a bit beneath the accumulating snow, which Yeva stole a glance at before parking Ivan and running into the store.

The coins in her purse chimed as her feet left prints in the town's virginal snow.

The rabbit still sat in the window, despite falling slightly to one side. Her pose resembled the lean someone would take after waiting a long time on a friend, collapsing over one side of a chair, black button eyes gleaming with the question, 'Oh, won't someone buy me?' Having dressed so beautifully and styled her fur in such a way, her offence was entirely reasonable.

The door actually opened and a bell went off above Yeva's head.

The shopkeeper regarded her with wide eyes.

"I'm glad you're here." Yeva cleaned the snow from her boots by stamping them on the mat. She approached the counter. "My sister desperately wants the rabbit in the window."

"I remember you two from last week. Well, from every week." She grinned as Yeva counted her coins. "Does your father send you both out with that furniture?"

"No," Yeva placed the correct amount in her hands. "My father is dead. I build the furniture and bring my sister with me."

"Oh," the woman blanched. "I'm so sorry."

"Why? You're not the first person to assume I don't make it myself."

"No, that was insensitive of me." She finally accepted the money. "I'll take seven for the rabbit. You came all the way here on this awful day." She placed three pieces back.

"Thank you. I appreciate that."

"You're welcome." The shopkeeper took the rabbit by one arm, tossing her onto the counter. "I thought about closing today because I was almost certain no one would come, but I had a feeling." Without asking, she pulled a long piece of wrapping paper from a compartment under the counter. Red and glistening, it complemented the rabbit's gown as it covered from her long ears to her lucky feet. "Just be careful on your way back. It's the Snow Queen's anniversary today."

To the sound of string being cut, Yeva said, "She doesn't seem so bad."

The shopkeeper lifted her brows, surrendering the rabbit wrapped finely in red. "Well, thank you for coming. I hope your sister enjoys the doll."

"She will. Thank you."

Yeva ventured outside, where the wind had picked up slightly.

Most of the townspeople had boarded themselves away in their homes, huddled around fireplaces whose glow illuminated their windows. Punctuating the snow with her boots, she followed the market around in a circle, the weather growing worse with every closed door she met. Closed signs left out overnight told her to keep moving, until Yeva had found the stationery store open and stopped in to buy Rozie a notebook for school.

She selected a floral printed book and paid three pieces for it, receiving a look from the clerk in the process. "Be careful out there," he said. "The Snow Queen's going to be upset tonight."

Yeva sighed and took her bag and rabbit to Ivan.

She patted him on the flank and set the gifts into the cart. A bit of snow had built up in the back, which she brushed away for the rabbit's sake, and took her seat.

For a moment, Yeva looked back, where the Snow Queen stood facing her. The sky had grown greyer, and places on the ground Yeva marked had refilled, like someone had taken crumbs from the table by sweeping a cloth across it.

Relaxing her eyes, she caught the faint silhouette of something in the distance, shaped like a column of ice. An identical structure stood to the right of it, forming the entrance of a castle. Yeva gasped and searched for more, but above the pillar were only clouds pregnant with a hail storm. In looking a little too long, the shape of it began to dissipate. The clouds fogged the background and left the Snow Queen staring directly at her.

Yeva shook her head and took hold of Ivan's reigns. Pointed toward home, the clock tower usually waited in the distance, surrounded by the few houses in their town, but Yeva found nothing but the shapeshifting body of a storm. The wind picked up and blew into her eyes, shutting them as the temperature dropped and the cold found entrances within her coat, drawing its brutal hands over every expanse of skin.

The path that normally led between the town and city had also been covered by unrelenting snow. Even in winter, there were usually footprints, hoof prints, wheel marks, _something_ , but like whiting out a mistake, everything had become blank. The wind blew frost over any colorful landmark, until all that remained were the nondescript forms of frozen trees.

Yeva's mouth and nose bled breath as she said, "It wasn't this bad this morning."

A moment later, as if receiving an answer, something cracked in the distance, the sound of a tree falling. Ivan cried out and sped up, prompting Yeva to grasp the reigns as he galloped.

"Ivan, stop!"

But Ivan wasn't in a state of reason, and kept running until hitting a heavy dip. He threw Yeva from the cart and into a tree, and escaping as she lay there. The flakes showered over her while the white world turned black.


	3. Chapter 3

Yeva awoke in a bed that wasn't her own.

Its bright white sheets held her softly, even when she tossed them away and dizzied her head by sitting up too quickly. Her hair, before restrained in an orderly bun, leaked in waves over her shoulders, and despite waking up in a room made of ice, she didn't feel cold even dressed in a simple nightgown.

Setting her feet onto the floor, she studied the room. Though minimalistic, it was large, containing furniture also composed of ice. A vanity with a bright silver mirror sat against one wall, and on the opposite, a see-through wardrobe which sat empty, blurred hangers dangling from the top.

The dull morning glow, weakened by snow clouds, managed to make it through the slightly transparent walls, leaving the chamber visible, but dark.

Yeva took a moment as breath steamed from her mouth and nose. She approached the door, an opening with a square border, and burst into the hall.

Unsurprisingly, there were more towering ice slabs, perfect and smooth as they formed the barren halls. Where most any home that size might have some decoration—framed photographs, colorful rugs, vases, paintings, _anything_ —this one had dimensions and nothing else. Yeva searched left and right, but with no servants, nor host, she chose left and ran.

Many other rooms like hers, entrances spaced evenly, lined the walls. None had doors, and passing, Yeva found the same sorts of beds in the same sorts of rooms with small variation. One may have a desk or table instead of a vanity, where some sat entirely empty.

Past the rooms, Yeva came to the end of the hall, which emptied into one gigantic chamber. Without pausing, she entered.

What she couldn't have seen from the hallway was the enormous woman stationed on a throne composed of ice. Sitting next to a story-tall mirror, she resembled a statue in a deliberate pose, arms set perfectly upon the barriers of the chair. Her crown sparkled with nonchalant savagery, with one enormous diamond near the center of her forehead. The rest was smooth as glass.

Stopped cold, small and absurdly blonde Yeva caught her reflection in the queen's mirror-silver eyes. Like looking upon something she should never have seen, she couldn't glance to anything else. Her body had become as frozen as the palace around her. It took someone draping a blanket over her shoulders for her to finally turn.

A ballerina made of ice and dressed in snow trotted gracefully away before Yeva looked back to the Snow Queen.

"I didn't think you would sleep for such a short time." Her voice was cool, but softer than expected. "If I had known you would have woken so early, I would have prepared something for you to wear other than that night gown."

Yeva gaped. "What happened?"

"I watched you crash into that tree. If left in the snow, you would have died." Her objective features bent in the way an expert jeweler might find the tiniest crack in a diamond. "I retrieved you."

"Thank you, but…"

"I know you must be confused, but I watch over all my people. There is nothing I cannot see, and we've viewed each other countless times through my statue in town. I appreciate finally meeting you in person."

Yeva finally touched the blanket around her shoulders. "I had no idea."

"It's nothing to be concerned about. You've never made a fool of yourself."

Moments passed as Yeva's breath escaped her and the Snow Queen didn't exhale at all. She appeared to die between bouts of conversation, her eyes not quite settled on Yeva's face, but a little lower. They seemed to catch on her hair collected on her shoulders.

Finally, Yeva said, "I'm grateful to you for saving me, Snow Queen, but I need to return. I left my sister alone."

"I'm aware, but—" Slowly, she moved her left arm to the mirror, whose reflective face showed the forest outside. Hail and snow beat the trees as the wind shook them, but after a few seconds, the Snow Queen withdrew her hand. The image disappeared. "The storm is too intense to try and return, but once it clears, it will be safe for you to leave."

"Don't you control it? That's what everyone in town said."

The Snow Queen turned her face as her eyes closed. She displayed her frosty lashes for several seconds, sighing. "I can't always control such things."

"Then what should I do?"

"Remain here. I'll keep you clothed and fed until it's time for you to go."

The Snow Queen raised her arm again, causing a flurry within the throne room. From that miniature storm, a neatly folded pile of clothes dropped into Yeva's arms, including a new pair of pants and a crisp white shirt, with a simple but elegant coat. Its crème fabric had a few tan buttons sewn carefully along one side and at the pockets. If found in a store, it would have cost a fortune.

"I was never certain how you braved winters in that old coat of yours. Though you may not be affected by the cold now, I would be glad to see you wear this in the future."

"How is it that I don't feel cold, Snow Queen?"

"Come. I'll show you."

Yeva hesitated before stepping forward. Taking in a breath, she walked toward the throne and stopped before its Queen, who must have been ten feet tall now that they stood near enough for comparison.

Rising, the Snow Queen kneeled to Yeva and placed hands upon her shoulders, surrounding Yeva entirely. Whether overwhelmed or completely frozen, she hardened in place and the Snow Queen pressed her lips gently to her forehead.

A chill passed over her—beginning from the point of the kiss to her coiling toes, but stole any freezing sensation. Yeva no longer experienced unpleasant feelings, nor pleasure. She merely found her own reflection in the Snow Queen's eyes and had nothing to say.

"There." The Snow Queen moved back to her throne after touching Yeva's hair. "That should sustain you a while."

"Thank you," Yeva said and walked away.


	4. Chapter 4

Yeva returned to her room, sat on her bed, and sank into the mattress for several minutes. She made an indent within the comforter, sinking further as minutes turned into hours. The beginning of the first and the end of the last frosted over like an icy window.

An indiscernible amount of time into her rest, she sat up at a scratching sound outside her doorway, where one of the ballerinas swept.

She didn't make eye contact as the ballerina went on, catching her bristles on the ice. They dragged brutally, but didn't accumulate any visible dust—only a few stray snowflakes which likely fell from her outfit.

Like the last time, Yeva fought out of bed, standing upon her drunk legs like a newborn fawn.

"Excuse me—" she said, and managed to approach, slipping but keeping upright. The ballerina turned to her and said nothing, standing at attention as her milky eyes watched nothing and no one other than her.

"I—Is my horse alright? Ivan? Did anyone see—"

Without speaking, the ballerina pointed down the hall.

" _What?_ Is he here?"

Arm outstretched, she opened her mouth only slightly, but even in that small space, Yeva could see that she had no teeth or tongue. The inside of her mouth housed only a shadow. She moved her lips around the word 'Ivan' and kept pointing.

"Oh," Yeva said. "Thank you," and continued down the hall.

Moving away from the Snow Queen's throne room, the second half of the hall didn't vary from the first. The same, perfect walls composed the same, perfect dimensions, continuing without intelligible end. The rooms went on in the same fashion, until the view resembled more of an experiment in perspective than a place anyone would live. Still, Yeva walked through the halls.

The ballerinas didn't seem capable of lying.

The further Yeva went, the more small changes appeared. Ice had accumulated more heavily in the corners, rounding out their 90-degree angles. Icicles sprouted from the ceiling, as the uniform rooms finally deviated. Some were much larger and held chests of items, and others were smaller and denser, hoarded with cabinets of china, vases, or jewelry on display—each appraised at a fortune.

The ballerinas occurred here and there, flitting around with brooms and dusters, not bothering to scrape away the built-up ice. Whenever Yeva came near enough, one would turn and stare, eyes glazed like the finish of a mirror. None of them stopped her, nor directed her toward Ivan. They would only turn and follow with her eyes, occupying themselves once Yeva was out of range.

Eventually, she reached the library. Lit by a window at the left of the room, it was dark and frozen, but packed from ceiling to floor with books. Many appeared read, book-marked and spines bent. Yeva didn't touch any of them. She merely observed the high shelves with their decorations and continued along the same corridor.

Past the library, the palace grew colder and the hall ended, the icicles hanging from the ceiling resembling the open mouth of a shark, teeth preparing to descend. On the left side was a single room, breathing out cold air, and Yeva didn't find any ballerinas to ask for directions.

A breath escaped through her nose as she approached. The room was shrouded in darkness, lined with plates that began to blink. Light came from some direction, which they reflected onto one another, resembling a wintertime illumination.

When Yeva entered, the pattern changed. The plates simultaneously reflected her light and bathed her in it. Each of them the same size and consistency, they covered the walls like eyes, glimmering as she moved toward the back.

All of them lit up when she approached a picture frame, whose image had iced over. Taking her sleeve, she wiped away the fog and found a tiara. Continuing, she uncovered two symmetrical brows, and piercing blue eyes as sharp as icicles. Then came a sculpted nose and shapely lips.

The woman must have been around eighteen.

Yeva went to the other side, where she stood next to someone obscured by frost, but it didn't disperse easily. Abrasively as possible without breaking the glass, Yeva scrubbed away and revealed a crown.

"Yeva…" A voice on the breeze kicked up a flurry of snow. "Come back," it whispered. "Dinner is ready."

The wind wound around her and blew away, and when Yeva turned to the picture, the ice had regrown. She could no longer see the queen, nor whoever she stood next to.

Yeva left. The plates darkened. That brief storm guided her back through the halls and past the empty throne room. Next to the mirror was another door that led to the dining room, whose icy chandelier dangled over its long, rectangular table. The Snow Queen sat at its head.

She shone the way the chandelier did, lit by strange light that wasn't fire, but condensed sunlight. Without it, the dining room would have exuded darkness. The icy walls indicated the night outside. Both the chandelier and the Snow Queen came to resemble stars amongst a feast in the midst of space.

"Sit next to me." The Snow Queen's arm indicated the chair at her side—the spot nearest to her at the ongoing table. Plates stretched from one end to the other, with borscht, loaves of bread, cut and roasted potatoes, and venison whose smell brought Yeva to sit.

From the direction of the throne room, one of the ballerinas came with an empty plate and chalice, filling them. She piled slices of bread, venison, and potatoes, as well as replenished the cup with spiced tea. Yeva nearly rose her voice, but the Snow Queen prematurely answered, "Not to worry. I haven't added any alcohol."

The ballerina set the plate before Yeva and tiptoed away.

"Are you going to eat, Snow Queen?"

"No." She leaned back in her throne, and touched the fur around her collar. "I take my energy from the winter. You may begin." Yeva picked up her fork and sunk its prongs into one of the potatoes, but rather than eating, she regarded the Queen.

The Snow Queen laughed, setting her chin over a few fingers and tilted her head. "Oh, Yeva. I wouldn't have had all of this food prepared if I intended to poison you. How amusing you are." She finished with a sigh. "Are you worried because I witnessed your adventure?"

Yeva pushed the fork in deeper.

"I could have stopped you. You've done nothing unpermitted."

"I wanted to find my horse."

"I'm aware," the Snow Queen said, and blinked slowly. "He's fine, and your rabbit is still in the cart as well. The notebook, however, was not so fortunate. It had soaked through by the time I arrived."

"Is Rozie alright?"

"Yes," the Snow Queen answered. "Rozie is fine."

Yeva stared at her plate. The Snow Queen, however, had not stopped observing her, sharp silver eyes resting where Yeva's hair gathered upon her shoulders.

"Snow Queen, I appreciate your generosity, but I need to get home. Rozie has been alone a long time."

The Snow Queen sighed. "I understand, but I can't control the storm, and it's night time as of now. Please stay and enjoy dinner. I had the venison prepared the way your mother used to make it, when your father would bring home a deer." The Snow Queen sat back again, having leaned forward a bit. "You should enjoy one decent meal while you're here. Life has been cruel enough, wouldn't you agree?"

Yeva didn't say anything.

"What your father did was unintentional," the Snow Queen began, softly. "I saw it happen. Even if it would have been in the dead of winter, I couldn't have prevented it, but he never meant for—"

"Please stop," Yeva clenched her teeth. "Intentional, unintentional, it doesn't matter. What's done is done, and if I don't get home soon, Rozie really will be an orphan."

"My apologies, Yeva." The Snow Queen set her hand upon the table, which came close to touching hers, but didn't. "I had wished to tell you that for a while. I hope you understand." She shifted and eventually rose. "I'll let you be. If you need anything at all, alert the ballerinas."

The Snow Queen afflicted Yeva's forehead with a gentle kiss and exited the dining room. Yeva, clenching her fork, ate, finished within minutes, and marched back to her room. She passed the Queen's empty throne on her way.


	5. Chapter 5

Long blood splatters tracked the post-winter ground. The pools, though shallow, popped bright and fresh in the snow, but had absorbed into the wood and grew dark brown, as if the half-finished chair could neutralize the trauma.

The ground even had the audacity to protrude beneath the snow. Frozen grass bared its face for the first time in months, to be dyed and perverted.

They would never sell that chair. They would never bleach the stains.

When Yeva looked down, she found Rozie crying in her arms, two months old and wailing as her face turned shades of pink and red. Her upset echoed like the calls of the birds—how the crows cawed and the sparrows sang, but to all the noise, Yeva stalled and glanced deeper into the shed.

She awoke with a start.

With her hand clasped over her heart, Yeva caught her breath. She sat at the edge of the mattress while her breathing made the only sound in the room. No wind blowing outside or any toothless ballerinas pattering across the floor.

Adjusting her eyes to find the doorway, Yeva walked toward it, but stopped before her vanity mirror. Its face neglected to shine at her. She progressed.

Hands forward, Yeva eventually came to the throne room, whose light had guided her. Despite its icy dimensions, the roof was the clearest part of the room, bathed in a fully waxed moon.

The Snow Queen wasn't at her throne, and the mirror shined as Yeva approached.

Upon its surface, she found her own face highlighted by its silver. The glow it emanated drew shadows onto her face that were less severe in person. She looked sleepless.

Yeva held out her hands and caused her image to disappear. A swirling mass of stars replaced it, large and small, rotating around a center point. She made them turn faster or slower by clutching her hands, and closing her eyes, dismissed them for the image of a straw-blonde girl tucked into bed, crying.

Perhaps the mirror couldn't produce sound, but Rozie appeared silent anyway as she stifled her sobs. Despite cuddling with Dr. Spots, she was in another room, in another bed, in another house resembling the neighbor's.

Where before she looked in on Rozie from the window, Yeva found the other side of the glass as if she were inside the room. Turning toward the town, she witnessed the set of houses nearest their own, beneath a peaceful sky.

Snow covered the buildings, the clocktower painted white by it, but not one flake fell, nor as much as a harsh gust to rattle the roofs as the townspeople slept.

Yeva stepped back, and turned to the two enormous doors. Despite how heavy they appeared—at least a foot thick and embellished by a deeply cut pattern—Yeva ran at them. Skidding, nearly falling and breaking her legs, she slammed against their flanks. Her impact reverberated around the chamber, but the doors towered unfazed.

Yeva howled and tried again, throwing her full weight against them and bouncing off, her six feet no match for their twenty.

She kept charging, however, bruising her arms, damaging her shoulders, and rattling her teeth. She managed to shake the throne room, but the doors refused to part as if frozen together. They may not have come apart. The dividing line could have been a line drawn in a sculpture of two doors, not functioning as doors at all.

Breathing hard and drenched in sweat, Yeva shouted as she slid to the floor. She wiped the tears from her eyes and returned to her room, vision perpetually blurry.

Upon arriving, she walked to the mirror. Before it could glimmer awake, she shattered it with her fist, bursting into numerous shards upon the floor. Picking up the largest and longest piece, Yeva sat upon her bed.


	6. Chapter 6

That morning, Yeva stood before the Snow Queen, offering a long, blonde braid within her fist. She had come to the throne, dressed in her new clothes with her hair shorn to a golden tuft.

"Snow Queen," Yeva began, "I appreciate your generosity, but you lied. To thank you, I'll give you my hair, but I demand you let me, and my horse, go."

The Snow Queen regarded her, setting a few fingers before her lips. "I'm surprised you were able to use the mirror." Tears like diamonds crashed to the floor, hard and perfect. "I intended on letting you go."

Yeva watched the Snow Queen as she gasped in quiet breaths, her features never clenching unpleasantly but remaining objective as the water falling from her eyes.

"I'm sorry, Yeva. It's been so long since I've spoken to anyone. No one dares come here, and it's terribly lonely. Now you've ruined your beautiful hair, and it's my fault."

"I forgive you, Snow Queen, but I need to leave."

She smoothed her elegant fingers over her cheeks, where the tears would have marked if they weren't frozen. Taking a final gasp, she waved her hand and Ivan appeared within the throne room, bearing the cart, the wrapped Lady Felicity, Yeva's old clothes, and several other gifts rife with glitter and bows.

"You may go," The Snow Queen opened the doors with a wave of her hand, and reclined into the throne as if sighing away her last molecule of air.

But before taking a seat, Yeva approached and set the braid upon her lap. "Thank you," she said, and turned to leave.

Yeva took Ivan by his new leather reins, imploring him to move. With a full cart, he took a slow start, through which Yeva glanced back at the Queen. She held the braid between her delicate fingers, admiring it, but with the guilt of coveting a stolen heirloom.

Their eyes met the last time as Yeva left the palace and the doors creaked shut behind her.

The way home was a straight shot downward from the palace, which sat atop a tall but not-too-steep hill. Ivan, well fed and rested, trotted easily along the path bordered by dark and frozen trees, and into the midst of the city, whose people gasped upon seeing Yeva.

She went too quickly to hear them birth rumors about who she had become. Eyes of both men and women latched on in her stead, nearly tearing the paper from the gifts like something caustic. She even managed to halt a few wealthy women in the streets, with husband or not, whose hearts failed. They stopped upon seeing her, gloved hands clasped over their chests.

Even before she pulled in to her own little town, before her own little house, people gathered outside to see her. "Yeva!" Some shouted, recognizing her despite the sharp outfit and short hair. She only pulled the reins to stop Ivan once outside their neighbor's house, whose familiar window showed Rozie heading outside.

Yeva started towards the door as Rozie flung it open, tripping through the snow and into her sister's embrace. Yeva had kneeled to pick her up, and Rozie held Yeva as tightly as she could, sobbing.

"I thought—" Her words hardly took form, warped and wet.

"I'm sorry, Rozie."

"I thought you died—!" She squeezed so hard, she nearly strangled Yeva, who kissed both her cheeks. "I thought—" she gasped. "I thought I'd have to live at the neighbor's house forever—" Calming, she wiped her eyes. "Why is your hair short? Where did you go?"

"It's a long story," Yeva's own voice failed, to which Rozie grasped her harder.

After thanking the neighbors and inventing an explanation, Yeva brought Ivan and Rozie home, where they turned on the stoves and unloaded the gifts. Rozie helped, making trips with boxes tucked beneath her arms aside from a few large enough to require both hands.

The last present in Ivan's cart, now uncovered beneath layers of treasure, was a box addressed to Yeva. Lightly shaking it, the container wrapped in sky blue paper didn't make noise, but felt dense. It carried a weight that translated to its perfectly wrapped corners and lack of festive bow.

Yeva took the gift and set it in her room, coming to find Rozie sitting amongst her presents in the salon. Dr. Spots was with her, who she held as she prepared her accusation. "Tell me what _really_ happened," she said. "I don't think you'd buy me all of these presents, Yeva. That would be irresponsible."

Yeva nodded, and sat down in her arm chair. "You're right, Rozie. It would be irresponsible."

Rozie gasped, "I knew it," and held Dr. Spots tighter. "So what happened?"

Both stared at each other for a period. "Ivan threw me off the cart during a storm, and the Snow Queen saved my life."

Rozie stood out of disbelief, and after a few seconds, fell out of disbelief. " _You met the Snow Queen?_ " she asked, and Yeva answered that she had. Rozie's eyes grew to the size of snow globes. She gasped as Yeva told her about the palace and its ballerinas, and of the Snow Queen who wouldn't let her go until she cut off her hair.

"Was she beautiful?" Rozie muttered in disbelief.

Yeva's face colored. "She was very beautiful."

"Wow…" Rozie whispered, before inflating with a thousand questions. Laying on the floor, she asked about the Snow Queen's height, and the size of her palace, and what the ballerinas looked like, what they were wearing, what the Snow Queen was wearing, about her shoes, and what type of tiara she had. Was it Christmas everyday? Did it snow inside the palace? Were there snow cats or snow puppies? Were the puppies nice? Why didn't Yeva bring one home?

"Rozie," Yeva interrupted. "I know it's a few days before your birthday, but would you like to open a few presents?"

" _Presents!_ " Rozie shrieked and tore herself from the floor, the way a piece of balled up tissue would fall unceremoniously from a bathroom ceiling. "Which one can I open first, Yeva?" Her eyes were full of kicked-up glitter.

"Any but the one wrapped in red."

Rozie approached her tower of presents and took a box carefully from the top. Sitting back on the floor, she set her eyes on Yeva as she carefully removed the wrapping. "Will the Snow Queen be mad at me if I tear her fancy paper?"

"I don't think so. It's a present, after all."

Rozie tore the silver paper asunder, splitting it as lightning would tear the earth. From this chasm, she produced a box, and separated the lid to reveal a gold and silver wand with ribbon dangling from its star.

Rozie lifted it above her head to unlock ultimate power and unveil the secrets of the universe, but produced a shower of snowflakes. "Wow!" She pointed the wand toward Yeva and spat temporary glitter onto her shoes. "It's magic! I guess you really weren't making it all up!"

"Did you think I was lying?"

Rozie's face froze into an open-mouthed smile as her last bout of snowflakes dissipated. "Let's open more presents!"

Throughout the course of the afternoon, Rozie covered the main room in shredded silver paper as she discovered, along with her wand, a new grey cap, a fur coat dyed shades of pink lemonade, a frilly dress to be worn for special occasions, a crisp notebook to replace the soggy one left in the woods, story books sewn with golden thread, and her very own tiara. Just before she came to the last gift—Lady Felicity hidden in her striking red cocoon, Yeva stopped her.

"I want you to open that one on your actual birthday, Rozie."

"But, _Yeva_ —" She grasped Lady Felicity by the ear through the paper. " _I know what this one is._ "

"Well, it won't be such a suspenseful wait then, will it?" Yeva stood. "Let's clean up this paper, and I'll prepare dinner. Tomorrow you'll write a thank-you note to the Snow Queen."

"But how will she get it?"

"I'll see to it that she does."

Rozie looked for a moment through the wasteland of torn paper, spent ribbons, and on one side, the tower of gifts, which contained all but the wand clasped in her hand and the tiara on her head. "It was really nice of her to give me these things, but the statue in town always made her look scary."

"I didn't think she was scary."

Rozie fired a flurry of harmless glitter. "You weren't scared at all?"

"I was, but not because I thought she would hurt me." Yeva paused to pick up some paper. "I was worried I might not see you again." She had already accumulated a pile the size of a snowball. "The Snow Queen seems lonely, but not bad."

Rozie grasped her wand. "I'm glad she let you go, Yeva."

"Me too."

"Do you think I'll get to meet her one day?"

"Maybe."

"She's a queen, so she shouldn't be lonely." She accidentally produced a flurry as she leaned over to clean the floor. "Queens have courts, and even if she won't let me join hers, I want to visit."

"You should tell her that."

Rozie narrowed her eyes. "Maybe I will."

After tidying up, Yeva made dinner, ate with Rozie, and put her to bed. Once buried in blankets with Dr. Spots, Yeva stamped a kiss on her forehead. Rozie wished her good night and dozed off the moment the door clicked closed.

Dressing for bed, Yeva sat on one side of her mattress and held the Snow Queen's gift in her lap. It weighed there, shimmering in mellow candlelight.

She opened the paper on one side and drew the box from it, brown and lacquered with trees carved meticulously into it. Each leaf was carefully scratched into the wood, small details appearing like a photograph taken of a winter grove.

Upon opening it, Yeva stared.

The contents wouldn't shuffle because they couldn't have. Hundreds of bills were crammed together so stiffly that they hardly moved when Yeva dragged a finger across them. Where most stacks of money might give a little, like cards bend when shuffled, this one remained steadfast and stiff, rending Yeva still and mute.

Eventually, she replaced the lid and set the container in the night stand's empty bottom drawer, laying in bed. Beneath the avalanche of sheets and blankets, she considered the ceiling, whose light altered by the flame she forgot to extinguish. For once, Yeva didn't sit up to blow it out.


	7. Chapter 7

_Dear Snow Queen_ , Rozie wrote, _Thank you for the tiara, the wand, the books, the clothes, and everything. Thank you for saving my sister. I need her. Yeva said that you seemed lonely, but you're a queen, so you should have whatever you want. If you need someone in your court, I can join. I get good grades, and sometimes I help Yeva clean the house and sell furniture. I also learned how to make toast and everyone says I'm really talkative._

 _Thank you for your consideration,_

— _Rozie_

Yeva proofread the letter before sealing it, placing it with her own upon the chair she had constructed.

It cost a week. Sketching them in pencil first, she had carved foliage and vines into its arms and legs, whose pattern made them like a flowering titan, sealed in an even layer of lacquer and ready to serve.

Yeva placed the throne in the cart. It descended with a crash, causing Ivan to shake his head and sputter. After stroking his mane, Yeva went to tell Rozie she would only be gone for an hour or two.

"But Yeva," Rozie said, topped in her tiara, wand at hand. "Aren't we going to sell furniture today?"

"I only have one piece and it's not for sale." Yeva looked at Rozie's bed, where Dr. Spots sat with an open book on his lap. He appeared serious in his wire glasses. "When I come back, why don't I read you a story?"

"Okay!" Rozie glittered up the air. "You better be careful though. You better not die like last time."

"I didn't die last time, Rozie."

"Yeah, well. Don't die this time."

"You don't die either."

"I won't!" Rozie squeezed her sister's legs, who picked her up and kissed her.

Yeva followed the same path to the Snow Queen's palace she had going away from it. Walking along the straight line from her home, she passed through the city, and into layers of untouched mountain snow.

Yeva's new coat, trousers, and cap again drew rumors. People whispered as she made her way to the Snow Queen, accusing her of becoming a mysterious prince, on his way to steal a woman's heart.

"Oh, what sharp cheekbones he has—what a lovely face, and what beautiful clothes!"

"I think I even witnessed some of his golden blond hair peeking out beneath his cap—and what a noble steed he has!"

None noticed the old cart fastened to the steed, who they had seen before, nor that the chair the prince transported indicated Yeva's handiwork.

The rumors shapeshifted at the end of the village, where the citizens wondered more pointedly where Yeva was going. At a certain point, however, they grew smaller as if stunted by the snow, until disappearing beneath it in silence.

Yeva reached the summit of the mountain, having been the only one to mark the ground with her horse's hooves and her cart's wheels. But where the solitude ended and long pillars of ice should have begun, there were no pillars; there was no palace. The rolling halls evident only last week transitioned to rolling hills of virginal snow, and Yeva looked around, in search of another summit, but she stood atop the only one.

"Snow Queen?" she asked aloud as a cold breeze rustled the fur of her coat. "I've come back for you."

This declaration received no answer, but Yeva still unpacked her chair and set it stoutly onto the mountain top, thank-you notes on its seat. The throne would sit until its rightful owner claimed it, too large for a normal man to carry and too tall for a regular home.

Yeva took Ivan down the mountain and into the city, where she found the Snow Queen's statue intact. She regarded it through the bakery window as she bought Rozie a chocolate birthday cake, paying with a brand-new note.


	8. Chapter 8

_Dear Snow Queen_ , Yeva wrote, _I can't thank you enough for everything you've done, and I'm unsure of what to do with the money you've given me. I'd like to get in touch with you to see if we can talk because I don't feel right accepting it. I might use a small amount to buy some things for Rozie, but if you decide you want it back, I'll repay the value in full._

 _Thank you for making her birthday special and for saving my life. I'm sorry that you're lonely, but I'm sure there's something that can be done. Don't give up hope._

— _Yeva_

Despite the fortune lurking in the bottom drawer of Yeva's night stand, she continued waking up before dawn and chopping wood for the fire, clearing the snow from the walkway, cooking for Rozie, and cleaning the house.

She and Rozie still went into town and sold furniture, though, the people finally discovered that the handsome, mysterious prince was Yeva, now that they held the same occupation and stood in the same spot on weekends.

People who may have passed her before approached and asked endless questions. Where did she and Rozie acquire those clothes? Where had they been over the last two weeks? Why had she cut her hair so short?

"Inheritance," Yeva answered. "We had to attend a funeral," she said. "My hair was becoming a nuisance."

Whoever asked might linger a moment too long before walking away, as Yeva kept from gazing at the ice sculpture. She hadn't melted yet, though her luxurious layer of snow had diminished as the coldest weeks had passed. It still snowed, but over short periods, instead of deathly storms of week-long blizzards.

When the townspeople kept their eyes to themselves, Yeva regarded it as long as she could before interrupted, and Rozie would ask, "Have you heard from her yet?"

"No, I haven't."

" _Aw—_ " Rozie would whine, "but I want to _see_ her."

Yeva asked her not to speak about it in public and Rozie stopped with some complaining. She opened Lady Felicity and played with her wand until it became commonplace, and eventually quit asking.

One night, Yeva sat at the edge of her bed nearest the window, watching the snow shower outside. The glass resembled a school's blackboard, blank but marred by the frost that clung to it, as if a student had left remnants of chalk.

Yeva kept waiting. The dark glass lit by scant moonlight continued presenting the snow, and while Yeva could make out her reflection, she never found her image in the Snow Queen's eyes. Now the only mirror was the windowpane, but Yeva drew closer, regardless.

Fogging up the glass with her breath, she pressed a finger into the spot she had made, and wrote, 'Hello?' and waited.

Minutes passed. Perhaps she wasn't watching. There were hundreds of other people for her attention, or maybe Yeva's encounter truly was a fever dream. Some burning illness could have left her longing for the cold. Perhaps she hadn't healed completely yet, envisioning Rozie's magic wand.

When Yeva turned away, the wind howled outside and drew her back. Reorienting herself, she found a brief freeze on the glass, with 'hello' printed in elegant cursive.

Yeva warmed the window with her breath, erasing the message, and wrote back, 'How are you?'

'I'm fine. Thank you.' Where Yeva would have tried to respond, the text continued in the snowflakes clumping to form small letters. 'I wanted to thank you for the beautiful chair. I'm sorry I wasn't there to collect it from you.'

Yeva almost asked why she wasn't, but the note continued. 'I felt that I had caused enough trouble in your life.'

'No,' Yeva wrote with her finger. 'I'm not angry.'

'You're welcome to speak.'

"I'm not angry, and I'm the one who should feel guilty. You've left me so much money."

'I have far more than that. You don't need to hesitate in accepting it. Invest it, or use it to send Rozie to school, or buy a new house.'

"I don't want to buy a new house, Snow Queen."

The text stopped. When Yeva spoke, the Snow Queen was in the middle of suggesting a gown, on an incomplete letter n. She started over. 'I certainly won't force you.'

"I didn't mean to be rude. This is our childhood home."

'I understand.'

Yeva paused. "Did you receive the notes as well, Snow Queen?"

'I did.'

"Are you still lonely?"

The text hesitated. 'Yes.'

"Why don't we talk tomorrow? I should have some time after Rozie heads to school."

'I would enjoy that.'

"Good. Goodnight, Snow Queen."

'Goodnight, Yeva.'

The message disappeared from the window as Yeva went to bed, extinguishing her candle. The soft light from the stove still radiated within the room.

The next morning, Yeva saw Rozie to school and returned to her bedroom window where she nearly spoke. The frost interrupted her.

'Good morning, Yeva.'

"Good morning, Snow Queen."

'How did you sleep?'

"Well, and you?"

The frost took a moment to write out its reply. 'I don't sleep, but I rested well.'

"If you don't sleep, then what do you do?"

'I retired to my chamber to read, and while lounging upon my sofa, I rested my eyes, but I never sleep, nor do I dream.'

Yeva read over the response. "Do you miss dreaming?"

'How did you know I used to dream?'

"Oh—" Yeva blushed. "I saw the portrait inside your palace. That was you, wasn't it?"

The Snow Queen paused, 'It was.'

"May I ask what happened?"

She paused for a longer time, perhaps leaning back within her throne (if she sat upon it) and touched the crystal white fur around her shoulders. Or perhaps her long-nailed fingers played with an elegant collar made for a queen, as she formed her response. 'My heart grew cold, and froze over.' Eventually, she added, 'I've been magical my entire life.'

"Did it hurt when your heart froze?"

'No. I felt nothing, and to this day, feel nothing.'

"I don't think that's true."

'Oh?'

"You cried before I left, Snow Queen. Your tears were perfect and beautiful, but they were tears nonetheless."

'I suppose.' Yeva imagined her saying it, setting her chin upon the back of her fingers, tilting her head. 'I did feel terrible that day. What I mean to say is that I feel nothing most of the time. Though, there are certainly some events that leave me with emotions, but—' the flakes reset themselves, peeling from the glass and starting over. 'For the most part, the hours pass calmly, and I'm undeterred.'

"You said you were lonely."

'That is as constant as the ice composing my palace.'

"But it's still a feeling."

'It hardly affects me anymore, though I appreciate your company, Yeva.'

Seconds passed. "It doesn't have to be that way, Snow Queen, and I think it does affect you, no matter how used to it you are."

'Thank you, Yeva,' she wrote.

They spoke about an hour before Yeva went to the workbench. The Snow Queen asked to watch from the shed's window and Yeva said that she could.

They fell into a routine.

After waking Rozie and cooking her breakfast, Yeva would ask the Snow Queen how she was. It was strange at first, to march in and speak to one side of the room, but sometimes the Queen had preemptively written her good morning.

The Snow Queen would tell Yeva of the amusing occurrences in the city. Some of the people who stopped to stare at her in the street had plenty of secrets—affairs and scams that ended up public. Yeva would recognize names from chairs she had built for a fighting couple, or a table she made for someone who would marry (it wasn't all bad).

"Can you see other cities as well, Snow Queen?" Yeva asked.

Amid someone else's dirty laundry spelled neatly on the pane, the Snow Queen said, 'I can see anywhere, as long as there is glass.' She reached the end of the window and restarted,'Or snow for me to look through the flakes. There are some parts of the world I cannot see, but I can see much of it.'

"That's impressive," Yeva paused, "I've been wondering, how is it you can hear me, Snow Queen? When I used your mirror, I could only see."

'I'm the Snow Queen,' she answered. 'You're only a human, but I would bet by your ability to use my mirror that you have magic inside of you too. My mirror, however, was not made for you, so you can't hear through it; not like I can hear you.'

"I see," Yeva said. "Can you hear me through any manner of glass, Snow Queen?"

'I can.'

"Perhaps I'll try talking to you as I work outside, if you decide to watch me."

'I enjoy watching. You're very skilled.' There was a lull. 'Would you ever permit me to assist you?'

"Assist me?"

Past the window, the flakes clumped together, and from the ground, the snow rose. What at first was a large, shapeless heap took form, as if she were molding clay on a pottery wheel. The mass developed curves and indents, convex and concave angles. She grew a face and two feminine arms, whose hands pressed against the window as she seemingly looked in.

The snow woman didn't embody the Queen's true height, but stood about as tall as Yeva. Their eyes were level.

Suddenly, the text resumed as the woman fell apart, covering the ground she had stripped. One of her arms lay visibly atop the pile.

'You don't seem particularly enthused,' she wrote.

"I suppose I'm worried someone might see your snow woman." Yeva paused. "I don't want the attention that sort of magic might bring."

'Is that why you didn't tell the townspeople the truth?'

"It is," she answered, "I don't care if they look at me as an outcast. They already do. I just…" She trailed off. "I don't want the endless questions, or worse, if they treat Rozie badly."

'I understand.'

"Thank you," said Yeva, "but I would be happy if you watched me. I appreciate your company."

The Snow Queen watched as Yeva went outside and cut her wood. That day she constructed a simple marriage bed for a young couple, carving a design into the headboard with a heart in the center.

The Snow Queen drew a heart into the workshed's window, which Yeva traced another heart around.

"Thank you, Snow Queen," she said around a chuckle and went back to work.


	9. Chapter 9

Sometimes they would run out of conversation topics, and while they didn't speak every day, the Snow Queen would usually write on the window. Sometimes there would be nothing more than small hearts which Yeva would trace.

One day, as she was working in the shed, a snowy breeze wove its way through her hair. Into her ear it whispered, 'Yeva.'

"Yes, My Queen?"

The breeze afflicted her like a playful slap, and the Snow Queen wrote her message. 'I hope I haven't been intrusive.' She made the letters large enough so Yeva could read them from the bench.

"Not at all," she continued smoothing out a piece of wood. "You've been fine." The breeze blew over a hesitation. Yeva asked of the silence, "Is there something you're worried about?"

'I wonder,' she answered, 'if we can see one another again.'

Yeva considered the window and before she could speak, the Snow Queen made more letters.

'Perhaps you don't want to.'

"I do want to."

'I won't keep you a moment longer than you'd like to visit.'

"I know you won't." Yeva continued smoothing. "What did you have in mind?"

'Dinner,' she answered. 'Rozie may come.'

"Ha! I'm sure she'll be delighted. She's wants so badly to see you."

'I want to see her too.'

Rozie was sitting in her room with Dr. Spots and Lady Felicity. In a strange turn of events, Dr. Spots was lying in a puddle of blood—one Rozie had made by scribbling over a piece of paper and cutting it out, placed lovingly beneath him. She had also drawn a dagger, set on the doctor's stomach. Lady Felicity mourned over him with her magic wand in hand (which had fallen momentarily onto the floor).

"What a twist of fate," Yeva said. "The doctor is the one with stab wounds."

"He was murdered in jealousy," Rozie's cheeks were still bright and chubby despite her dour expression.

"By Lady Felicity?"

" _No!_ By one of Lady Felicity's admirers! His name is Count Ice Cream, and he's handsome, but Lady Felicity isn't interested because she loves Dr. Spots. But she's going to bring him back to life because she's been studying magic at the university, even though she doesn't have her doctorate yet. Once she graduates, Dr. Spots is going to marry her."

"Where is Count Ice Cream now?"

" _The Dark Forest_ ," holding her arm out, Rozie indicated the closet. "He lives in a mansion and plays the organ."

"I hope he's brought to justice."

" _One can only hope_." Rozie picked up the dagger and crinkled its paper handle.

Yeva laughed. "I have good news."

"What is it?" She answered as if _she_ were playing an organ.

"The Snow Queen had invited us to dinner on Saturday night."

" _What?!_ " Rozie stood up and, to keep from falling, grasped Yeva's left leg. With sparkly eyes, she said quietly, "Is that true, Yeva? Did she really invite us?"

"She did."

"I'm going to meet her?"

"You will."

Rozie took the wand from Lady Felicity and showered glitter. Like an explosion of confetti, it got onto the floor, the bedspread, Yeva's shoes, Dr. Spots's corpse, but disappeared before fusing itself with the room.

"But Rozie," Yeva interrupted her sister's twirling. "You have to be on your best behavior. We've been invited to a Queen's home."

"Yes, Ma'am!" She grasped her wand and stood at attention. "I promise I'll be good!"

"Thank you. As you were."

During the week leading to that Saturday, the Snow Queen suggested picking them up at the edge of town, promising that no one would witness them climbing into her carriage. Yeva agreed, and after deciding to meet in the south, The Queen wrote, 'Please don't be alarmed when you see that my carriage is drawn by two wolves. They're neither aggressive nor dangerous; merely large.'

"Thank you for telling me," Yeva answered. "I'll let Rozie know."

Rozie, who was already bouncing around the house, jumped even higher at the news.

" _The Snow Queen has Magical Wolves?!_ " She yelled in her tiara, again polluting the air with glitter. " _What other amazing things does she have?_ "

"I don't know, Rozie. You'll have to wait and see."

If the glitter had stuck, the inside of the house would have looked like a chintzy Christmas card—coating the recipient's fingers in sparkles. Rozie's waiting and seeing left the house in a perpetual state of noise and questions, most of which Yeva couldn't answer.

So, she asked the Snow Queen.

"What are your wolves' names?"

'Anna, and the other, Katya.'

"She wants to know your favorite flavor of cake."

'Cake? It's been such a long time.' Eventually she wrote. 'I suppose I liked chocolate.'

"And she wants to know your favorite color."

'I've always been partial to pastels.'

When Yeva reported these answers, Rozie grew bouncier, combusting with excitement, until Saturday night had finally come, and Yeva was trying to brush her sister's hair. Rozie vibrated, causing her freshly brushed locks to tangle anew.

She wore the dress the Snow Queen had gifted her, and insisted upon the tiara.

"Well, I can't get it onto your head if you don't sit still."

Rozie managed to remain rigid for a short period, and Yeva thanked her and brushed her short straw hair. Rozie breathed loudly throughout the process, like an animal on the run who suddenly stopped. Inflating, she released a question.

"What are you going to wear, Yeva?"

"My new pants and shirt."

"You're not going to wear a dress?"

"I don't really have any."

Rozie turned to her.

"You never noticed?"

"I guess not…"

After Yeva had set the tiara upon her head, and wrapped her in her winter coat, she became dapper in her fresh pants and crisp shirt, lingering near the top drawer of her nightstand. She searched the scant and nearly random items inside—a fountain pen her father used to own, a collection of extremely old coins. Towards the back was her mother's old compact mirror with ancient rouge. Opening it, she observed herself, her honey brown eyes and short, golden hair, applying powder to her face.

Yeva left her room with cheeks as bright as Rozie's and exited the house holding her sister's hand.

Outside, the weather remained cold and still. Despite being relatively early, none of the neighbors were out. They may have gone to the city to drink or dance.

Yeva and Rozie walked together through the silent snow, crunching boots the only sound between them and the incoming night sky. The sunlight was fading, but had painted the horizon a majestic purple, through which the stars shimmered like tinsel.

Yeva felt Rozie's feet drag as she observed them, accidentally tugging her out of place on a few instances. Yeva would apologize and Rozie would catch up, until the royal colors faded for a consistent black. They had distanced themselves from their cluster of houses and occupied an evenly spaced grove of leafless trees. Without interruption, the constellations shined loudly into it, and the once peaceful wind hollered with something coming.

"Do we just wait?" Rozie had asked, but what sounded like an avalanche drowned her out, and the ground shook.

Rozie screamed, but Yeva could hardly hear her, and from the distance inbounded two enormous wolves.

They grasped one another through the kicked-up blizzard, and after a sudden wave of frost, a carriage appeared. Its wolves were titans at about seven feet, with fur as white as the snow settled onto the ground.

They were blind. Where perhaps two golden eyes should have resided was only more fur, but another pair of eyes drew Yeva's attention. She found herself in a mirror-like gaze.

The Snow Queen, elegantly poised with the reins in her hands, fogged over like clouded glass. As she moved to speak, Rozie released a long, " _wow_."

"Hello, Rozie. It's nice to see you in person."

Rozie gasped.

After long seconds, the Snow Queen laughed. "You're not just going to stand there, are you?"

Rozie just stood there.

"I think she's a little star struck," Yeva said. "She's been excited to meet you."

"I've been looking forward to meeting her too." The carriage opened. "Come. Dinner should be done any moment."

Yeva scooped Rozie up and entered, standing behind the Queen, who checked on her guests. Eventually, she bade the wolves to move. They took off with alarming speed, silent as they ploughed through the snow. They passed balding trees huddled together and left paw prints over the course of their long strides, as the carriage sleighed straight through.

The three remained quiet. Rozie still gaped as Yeva held her, and the Snow Queen kept her eyes on the path ahead, until reaching the palace contained within a mountain shadow.

That day, it didn't sit upon the same mountain top, but another nearby. The wolves stopped out front as Rozie let out another long, " _wooow_." While she and Yeva took their time exiting the carriage, the Snow Queen waited by patting one of her wolves.

Once Yeva and Rozie deboarded, the Queen sent the carriage to the back and opened the enormous doors. They creaked to reveal the throne room, where a few ballerinas stood to greet them.

The Snow Queen turned to her guests. "To prevent you from feeling cold," she began, but Yeva stepped forward, pulling her sister along.

"Rozie, the Snow Queen is going to kiss you."

"May I, Rozie?"

As soon as she nodded Yeva presented her, and the Snow Queen leaned over. Considering Rozie, she placed a hand upon her shoulder and kissed her left cheek, causing her face to redden.

She moved onto Yeva.

"May I kiss you?"

"Please," Yeva answered.

A few fingers on her right cheek, the Snow Queen planted a kiss upon Yeva's left. The fur from her riding coat surrounded her as she closed her eyes and only reopened them when the Snow Queen had drawn away, the whole of her face a cloudy mirror.

Together, they went inside while Rozie released another long, " _Wooooow_."

"After dinner I thought you could play in the throne room, Rozie."

"I would love to!" Rozie answered.

The throne had a large wooden chair next to it, decorated by carved flowers.

They were in the hallway when the Snow Queen looked at Yeva.

"Thank you, again," she said. "I wasn't sure where to put it but next to me. I can't help but admire it."

"I'm glad it's worthy enough, Snow Queen. I'm honored."

The Snow Queen grinned and turned away, as they finally made it to her dining room, where a feast awaited them, spread across the elegantly set table. There waited bowls of soup, fresh loaves of bread, silver pitchers of tea and water, roast duck and vegetables, and in the middle of the table, a chocolate cake beneath whipped cream and strawberries arranged like crown jewels.

Rozie, picked up anew by Yeva, nearly fell from her arms trying to take in the feast, clinging especially to the cake posed like a queen in the center. She emitted her fourth long, " _Wooooooow_ ," as Yeva set her down.

The Snow Queen took her place at the head of the table and the ballerinas began serving.

At that point, Rozie inflated and released quietly, "Madame Snow Queen, did you get my letter?"

"I did," the Snow Queen's riding coat disappeared to reveal her gown. It engulfed her shoulders down to her wrists, opaque with flake-like embellishments that blinked as she shifted. "I would be happy to consider you for my court, but perhaps when you're a bit older. I'm sure your toast-making abilities will no doubt improve over time."

Rozie's eyes grew that snow-globe gloss to them as she inflated with more curiosities. Like a balloon pinched closed, she released another inquiry, quietly. "Snow Queen," Rozie started. "May I ask more questions?"

"Please," the Snow Queen replied.

To that, her air bled out. Yeva ate and Rozie didn't, gasping and glittering between answers. She asked if the Snow Queen only ate frozen food; was she going to have some cake; was everything in the castle made of ice; were her clothes made of ice; what does she usually watch in the mirror; when Rozie is ready to become part of her court, is there an application process; can she live forever?

"No," the Snow Queen answered patiently. "I don't think I can live forever."

"Oh," Rozie said. "Were you always a Snow Queen?"

Yeva cut in, "Rozie, enough."

"She's not bothering me," the Snow Queen went on. "No, Rozie. I wasn't always a Snow Queen. I transformed when my husband died."

Rozie remained silent a moment and asked quietly, "Were you sad?"

"Not at all."

"But…aren't married people supposed to love each other?"

"Rozie!"

The Snow Queen laughed. "I don't know what they're supposed to do, but I did what I had to, and tolerated him."

Rozie ran out of questions and began to eat, while Yeva regarded the Snow Queen.

"You've both endured worse. You don't need to pity me."

Rozie produced another question, "Are you happy now, Snow Queen?"

"I'm neither happy nor unhappy, Child. I'm merely…lonesome. Though, I am glad to have you here."

"Thank you, Snow Queen." Rozie said. After a few silent minutes, Rozie inflated with more inquiries, and her attention wandered back to the Queen and her beautiful dress, and the shimmering crown upon her head. They fell comfortably back into questions and answers.

When Rozie and Yeva finished dinner, the Snow Queen took them to the throne room. Summoning a flurry, she constructed statues of Dr. Spots and Lady Felicity, each a bit taller than Rozie herself. She shouted and thanked the Snow Queen, beginning a game of tag after embracing them.

The Snow Queen and Yeva, meanwhile, watched.

Before speaking, the Queen turned to look at Yeva, small upon her throne. Her sharp eyes caught against her golden hair. Where before this look might have been like a brutal wind, it was comparable to a light snow storm, landing delicately on Yeva's shoulders.

The Snow Queen shifted in her chair, sparkling, and set her arms upon its rests. "It's nice to have you back, Yeva."

"It's nice to be back, Snow Queen. I'm sorry Rozie had so many questions."

"It's natural she would be curious. She's quite young, and this is an odd experience."

Both looked to Rozie, as Dr. Spots spilled handfuls of snow onto her. Playfully, she shouted and tried to run.

"I've wanted to tell you that I admire your tenacity, Yeva."

"My tenacity?"

"Yes. Despite everything, you've taken good care of her. I doubt anything could stop you. It's as though I can feel your determination. You have such strength."

Rozie slid across the floor.

"When I was wed, I had given up. I truly felt nothing, other than bitterness. It wasn't as though I had a lover I would have preferred, but I was certain I would never be happy with the man my parents selected. As the years dragged on, I grew colder and colder, until he died and I couldn't muster any sadness, nor joy. For what my station required of me, I had buried any feelings away, until my heart froze." She turned to Yeva. "But you've never let bitterness get in your way."

Yeva swallowed the invisible words in her throat. Like ice in her mouth, they melted, and she recollected her memory of them. "I'm lucky to have Rozie," She said. "Life would have seemed purposeless, but when you have a baby who needs you, you do what you have to do."

Rozie launched a snowball that hit Dr. Spots in the stomach, laughing.

"True, but I think you still would have found a way." The Snow Queen paused. "We were about the same age, when you lost your father and when I married. I used to have light blonde hair, like Rozie's. It feels like such a long time ago."

"What color is your hair now, Snow Queen?"

"Silver," she answered.

"I hope I'll get to see it one day."

The Snow Queen grinned.

Yeva and Rozie stayed a while longer before needing to return home. Just as she had brought them, the Snow Queen returned them, stopping her carriage and her wolves closer to their home.

Rozie was first to plop onto the ground. Her tiara fell off of her head, but Yeva lingered in the carriage.

"Thank you for coming, Yeva."

"Thank you, Snow Queen. We appreciate everything you've done for us."

The Snow Queen kissed Yeva's right cheek, and took her chill away. "Not to worry. It was lovely to have guests."

Yeva's cheeks were as red as Rozie's despite her makeup having faded over the course of the evening. The Snow Queen left them in silence after driving away in her carriage, and holding hands, Yeva and Rozie returned home.


	10. Chapter 10

After seeing Rozie to school, Yeva sat at her workbench, crying. She had caught sight of a blood stain she hadn't seen before.

The others had faded over time, after Yeva had scrubbed as much away as she could, but this one was a dark brown scar—evident of a cut one couldn't heal from, as though the shed itself had bled out.

Her tears blurred the tools and her own hands. Like the mark in the corner, they too were dark brown, the color of Yeva's gloves, the wood, and the table. Yet, Yeva kept sanding down the leg of a chair.

The wind picked up. Written in the thousands of flakes it held, it contained her name.

Yeva didn't answer but wiped her face. Her coarse winter gloves scratched, but that didn't stop her from rubbing their unkind prints over her cheeks.

The cool breeze called her again, the same temperature as the Snow Queen's breath.

"Why are you bothering to talk to me? Don't you usually write on the window?"

"I did write," it answered. "You wouldn't look."

Yeva choked around a jagged breath.

"I could see you trying to ignore your feelings, but you mustn't deny them, lest you turn into a Snow Queen too." A laugh played on the breeze that engulfed Yeva. It rotated around her, like the handle to a music box turning. "I would be curious what sort of Queen you would make," she said, "But believe me when I say this isn't the sort of existence anyone should aspire to. It's terribly lonely."

Held by the breeze, Yeva cried harder. "He always told me to be careful with the tools—and just because he was upset enough after Mom died, he came out here drunk and sliced his arm open—" Her expression changed, warped from soaking. "Rozie doesn't even remember him—not his stupid smiling face, or his light blonde beard. She'll never know what it's like to be scooped up by him—"

"But you can scoop her up," replied the wind.

"It's not the same," Yeva cried, "and I can't forgive him—"

A silence resided over the breeze, which seemed to grow arms and shoulders made to hold Yeva. It was cold, but calm, and held her in place.

"You don't have to forgive him, but you should acknowledge what's happened. To look inside your home, it's as if neither existed."

Yeva cried harder. The wind seemed to weep with her, blowing by at similar frequencies.

Storm clouds that had formed overhead seemed to lighten up when Yeva stopped.

"I try not to think of it, but when it comes back, it hits me so hard."

The Snow Queen said nothing, but had drawn several small hearts onto the shed window, leaving Yeva again with the sense that her chill had been seeped away on the wind. It left her like the flakes blowing by, and slowly, she went back to work.


	11. Chapter 11

The weather was beginning to warm up. It still snowed, though not as intensely, and watching a light shower one morning, Yeva told the window, "Snow Queen, I've decided I don't care if someone sees your snow women. I don't even care if they see us together. I doubt anyone would be cruel to Rozie over such a thing, and if they are, they'll answer to me."

Yeva paused after making her announcement. Where the Snow Queen would usually answer back, the entire window fogged over.

She didn't reply.

"Are you alright?"

'Oh yes. I'm fine.' Her text melted in the window, visible for a short time, so she wrote it again. 'I'm fine.'

The Snow Queen began working outside with Yeva. Compacting the snow outside into a smaller version of herself, she held pieces in place as Yeva hammered her nails. Together, they smoothed the limbs of tables, chairs, and beds, and the Snow Queen spread like a wind over the pieces. She would draw patterns with her ice, and once pulling away the design, revealed where the flakes had nicked. Afterward, Yeva set them deep into the wood.

Sometimes Rozie would come home and catch the Snow Queen's effigy outside, who always turned to greet her. Rozie would face-plant into her skirts and leave a little girl-shaped indent in the snow. Yeva would keep working, as the two engaged in a one-sided snowball fight at Rozie's insistence.

Glancing over, Yeva witnessed Rozie bounce around the backyard, screaming and laughing beneath the Snow Queen's blizzard. She would gather snow and hold it above Rozie's head, while she ran away from the flakes accumulating on her shoulders.

The Snow Woman returned to work when it was time for Rozie to study.

Every Saturday morning, the Snow Woman would load the furniture, and disappear after Yeva and Rozie pulled into the street to head to town, where people talked.

Yeva allowed them to.

Under the gaze of the intact statue, they asked questions again—why had her furniture suddenly become more beautiful; why were the patterns so eerily symmetrical; did she have a machine to help her, or had she dedicated more time? To these inquiries, Yeva sometimes ended up telling the story of how she met the Snow Queen. Sometimes the simple answer was enough to send the people away.

Yeva didn't bother stopping Rozie from advertising the fact that the Snow Queen had helped her. The truth would sell all of her pieces in good or bad publicity, and Yeva and Rozie would go to the palace for dinner.

Sometimes there wasn't much to say, but after eating, Yeva would sit next to the Snow Queen as Rozie played in the throne room. Everything shared and events relayed, they occupied the same space, exchanging grins.

At one point, the Snow Queen reached out her hand, splendidly decorated in icy jewels for Yeva to hold. Under the protection of a kiss on the cheek, Yeva accepted it, blanketed in the Queen's avalanche of a touch without suffering frostbite.

The Snow Queen held her hand the way royalty might run their fingers over a trinket, golden, precious, and secret.

That night, after saying goodbye and seeing them home, she wrote in the window, 'I want to dance with you.'

Yeva, freshly ready for bed in her nightgown, saw the message in the window. Sitting upon her mattress before replying, she combed through her hair. "You could have told me when we were visiting. Were you feeling shy?"

'Certainly,' she wrote. 'It's easier to be honest about my desires through text. When you were here, I couldn't help but linger on your face, and whatever request I wanted to speak refused life outside my mind.'

"That's alright, Snow Queen. I only want to see you happy. However you need to express your desires is fine with me."

Yet again, the Snow Queen drew a heart in the bottom left corner, which Yeva traced before going to bed.

Their dancing began with the Snow Woman in the backyard. After finishing the day's work, the Snow Queen would hold out her arms and Yeva would fill them. Both ended up with one hand on the other's shoulder and one on her hip.

"I don't really know how to do this," Yeva admitted. "I used to watch my parents dance together sometimes, but neither of them taught me."

"No matter," The Snow Queen wove her voice into the wind. "I'm grateful to have you as a partner."

Awkwardly at first, they made their way around the yard, turning in what would eventually become smoother, more consistent circles. On a few occasions, Yeva accidentally stepped on the Queen's gown, which fortunately, was only snow. She apologized and both of them laughed, mirroring one another in the shaking of their shoulders. Likely, the Snow Queen laughed to herself in her throne room where she danced alone.

Yeva told her one night, "I want to dance with you at the palace."

To that, it took the Snow Queen a moment. 'I would enjoy that,' and continued. 'May I gift you a gown?'

"But Snow Queen—"

'Please, Yeva,' She wrote. 'I've pictured you countless times in a particular gown, and while you might prefer a suit, I would love to see you in a dress. If you only wear it that evening, I'll be overjoyed.'

"You'll be _overjoyed?_ I thought you didn't feel anything, Snow Queen." She said this, crossing her arms and presenting her cheek, which the Queen might kiss or slap if they stood across from one another.

'I've been having more emotions lately,' She wrote, 'Emotions that you've made me feel.'

"Mostly good feelings, I hope."

'It's been terrible. I'm only happy when you're at the palace. Otherwise, I long for you to be here, or I impatiently wait for you to wake up.'

"I'm sorry, Snow Queen."

'As you should be. The least you could do after causing me such suffering is to visit in a gown, even only once.'

"If that's what it takes to redeem myself."

'Yes, you scoundrel.' The Snow Queen drew another heart. 'I'll send it to you before you visit this Saturday. You are coming, aren't you?'

"Of course, My Queen."

'Good. Now I order you to bed.'

"Yes, Madame." Yeva kissed the window. "Goodnight."

The window fogged before producing a kiss of its own—a plump imprint close to where Yeva left hers.

It took time, but after a few days, Yeva awoke Friday morning with a message on the window, telling her to look outside, where she found a brown paper package tied shut with bright string. Rozie was up when Yeva set it on the living room floor.

"What is it, Yeva?" she asked. If Rozie's eyes had the power to remove gift wrapping, the paper would have burst into a mess of confetti.

"I believe the Snow Queen has sent me a dress."

"Finally!" Rozie clenched her fists. "Well, what are you waiting for? _Open it!_ "

Yeva patted her on the head before pulling her ear. "It's not very courtly to be so materialistic, Rozie."

"Okay, fine." Pouting, she said, "But please open it."

Yeva turned it over and tugged away the string, leaving the neatly folded corners. Placing her finger under one side and pulling it apart, she revealed tissue paper insides—crème with fine glitter. Tearing them gently, she revealed the fabric, tucked into the package like a sleeping kitten, as well as a card.

Yeva opened the envelope and read it before continuing.

"Dearest Yeva," She recited. "Thank you for allowing me to gift this to you. It's been a fantasy of mine to see you dressed this way, even before we started talking frequently. I wanted to make something like this for you while you were at the palace, but I'll be ecstatic to have you visit while dressed up. It's more climactic that way, wouldn't you agree?

"—Amicably, Your Snow Queen."

" _Your_ Snow Queen?" Rozie let out a long ' _oooooo_ ,' little hands on her red cheeks.

"Rozie, please." Yeva peeled back more of the paper and revealed a bodice of gold sequins, as well as light translucent sleeves that would end at her wrists.

The sight of the gown stopped Rozie mid-song, ( _Yeva and the Snow Queen sitting in a tree_ —), having attracted every sprinkle of glitter in her snow globe eyes.

Taking the dress by the shoulders, Yeva caused something else to fall out—a necklace of gold, pearls, and small yellow gems.

"She shouldn't have," Yeva held it carefully, "This was really too kind of her."

"It's _beautiful!_ " Rozie said. "You're going to be so pretty, Yeva."

"You think so?"

Rozie nodded while Yeva folded away her dress, placing the necklace upon its chest.

"Come on, before you're late for school."

Yeva spilled her thank you into the cool air around her workshed window. She told the Snow Queen that she didn't need to put so much into the gown—that all of it, from the perfect sequins around its neckline to its thick and flowing skirts were too much, but the Snow Queen replied, simply, 'No, Yeva. You're beautiful, and you deserve it.'

Then she built a snow woman and went to work.

"I'm looking forward to tomorrow, Snow Queen."

The Snow Queen's double touched her on the cheek with careful fingers, and that day passed as though she had snapped them. It wasn't long until Yeva was sitting on her bedspread, dressed in her golden gown with an unopened bag of makeup on her lap, lip color, bronze eyeshadow and new rouge that didn't happen to come with a mirror. Using her mother's old compact, she switched frequently between her reflection and the brown paper bag.

Even through her skirts and the bag's barrier, Yeva could make out where the lipstick ended and the eyeshadow began.

Just then, Rozie knocked on the door, peeking her head in.

"Yeva, are you ready?"

Rozie too, had dressed in her gown. Lopsided tiara on her head, she half-stepped in, adjusting it.

"Maybe just ten more minutes."

Rozie smiled, "You look really pretty."

"You do too."

Rozie batted her eyelashes and ran away, laughter echoing in the main room. Yeva looked again into the compact mirror, opened the bag and took twenty minutes.

She and Rozie wandered into the snow, dressed fabulously in ball gowns obscured by winter coats. As though divided into day and night wear, they walked amongst the setting sun and rising moon to find the Snow Queen waiting for them at the edge of town. She appeared as a vision in white in her plush riding coat.

Coming upon her, Yeva paused, as did she. Their gazes bled like glaciers melting into the same ocean.

The Snow Queen touched her coat where her frozen heart would lie underneath. She took in Yeva's new rouge, and her dark lashes, and the bronze sprinkled around her honey eyes. Normally statuesque, Yeva witnessed her breathe as she said, "It feels as though it's been such a long time. You look beautiful, Yeva."

"Thank you, Snow Queen. You do too."

"How kind of you," she moved her arm to open the carriage door. "Well, come along. I'm anxious to show you the palace. The ballerinas will dance with us, and I've created servants to play music."

Yeva and Rozie boarded, and soon after, arrived to the palace which bustled with activity. Two ballerinas stood waiting outside for them, and once the Snow Queen opened the doors, various dancing figures came into view, elegant noblemen and noblewomen made of snow. Like the ballerina of an expensive music box, they moved in predetermined patterns, rotating mechanically in consideration to one another. They never collided, working in perfect time, like the gears of a clock.

" _Wooooooooow_ ," said Rozie as the Snow Queen leaned down to kiss Yeva's cheek. In surprise, she turned too far and the Queen caught the edge of her mouth.

"I'm sorry to surprise you."

"That's alright—"

"Me next!" Rozie ran forward and leapt into the Snow Queen's arms, causing her to laugh in kissing both her cheeks. Her tiara had fallen into the snow, which the Queen picked up and set back onto her head.

"Shall we go inside? I didn't have my ballerinas prepare dinner, but I've set out refreshments. You're both welcome to eat or dance whenever you like."

"Thank you, Snow Queen!" Rozie shouted and received another kiss.

"Yes, thank you, Snow Queen. We've both been looking forward to this."

"You say it as though I haven't been too. Come. Let's begin."

Once inside, the Snow Queen set Rozie down and allowed her to run to the corner where Dr. Spots and Lady Felicity danced together. As she embraced them, both she and Yeva turned to one another for a speechless moment.

The Snow Queen went first. "You really do look lovely, Yeva. I wanted to tell you that you didn't need to wear makeup, but I admit that I didn't bother stopping you. You're plenty beautiful without it, but the colors you chose suit you."

"I didn't know what I was doing. I don't wear makeup often, but it felt…necessary. Did it turn out well enough?"

"Of course. Though I have to admit, I'm of a very biased opinion. You could come here painted like a circus clown and I would be elated, but I know you have much better taste. You're quite an artist."

Yeva didn't need any rouge. "You flatter me, Snow Queen."

"Perhaps. I only hope you don't mind." She held out her hand. "May I take your coat? I'd like to start dancing with you, unless you would prefer to eat."

"No," Yeva removed it, exposing the upper half of her gown. "I'd like to dance too."

Accepting the coat, the Snow Queen said, "You remind me of a drop of sunshine. You could light this entire palace," and before Yeva could witness the fogged mirror of her face, the Snow Queen turned away, erecting a coat rack of ice.

When she returned, still clouded over, Yeva offered her hand. Accepting it, both took to the floor while the other dancers waltzed to the sidelines, allowing the Snow Queen and Yeva nearly the entire throne room of space. The musicians in the corner with their frozen instruments stopped to begin a new song—a slow dance meant for a Queen.

Both tried to set their arms, but the Snow Queen's hand covered Yeva's entire shoulder, and Yeva could hardly reach hers.

"Well, this isn't exactly what we've practiced, is it? Wait a moment—" The Snow Queen stepped back, and drawing up a blizzard around her, shrank. The storm compressed her, like pulling tight the ribbons of a corset. Instead of compact snow, she looked like a woman cut from ice, and Yeva was able to look directly into her nearly blue eyes. They appeared frozen over, the backing of a mirror.

When the Snow Queen touched her, Yeva didn't feel any colder, though her breath escaped in clouds of steam.

Over the music, Rozie said, " _Wooooooooooow_."

Laughing, they began.

The Snow Queen moved stiffly at first, as though her joints had frozen. As a result, Yeva made a few missteps, feet contacting the hard edges of the queen's gown. Crashing into one another, they laughed. The steps grew easier with each moment, as the Snow Queen's stiff limbs loosened, and as Yeva recalled each step.

There were moments where both tripped. Twirling around the throne room, Yeva caught the skirts of her gown beneath one of her shoes, and the Snow Queen—unadjusted to her new percentage of ice, missed a count, but they grinned, watching their feet as their faces clouded.

They danced until the outside grew dark, when the chandeliers and lights resembled stars and planets, but it was when Rozie yawned that the three prepared to leave.

As usual, the Snow Queen took her guests home, returning to her normal size, and summoning her carriage. In a comfortable silence, she commanded her wolves as Rozie slept within Yeva's arms. Her quiet snoring prompted the Queen to glance back, grin, then focus on the path.

That time, closer to midnight, the carriage stopped in their backyard in a peaceful flurry the Snow Queen had brought with her. It rained over them like falling powdered sugar, sticking to their coats as both searched for words like lost house keys.

Yeva found hers first. "Thank you again, Snow Queen."

"Of course, Yeva. Thank you."

As usual, the Snow Queen kissed her goodbye, this time on the forehead, but lingered a moment. In that brief span of time, Yeva kissed her back, catching her chin on the left side, just under the lips. Gracing her, Yeva shivered but chuckled.

"I'll talk to you tomorrow, Snow Queen."

"Yes," she answered. "I'll talk to you tomorrow."

Carrying Rozie inside, Yeva left her in the backyard, where she stood for a time. Fogging over, she finally went back.

The Queen wouldn't notice until approaching her mirror, but the diamond within her crown had cracked.


	12. Chapter 12

That morning, Yeva went to the window and placed her hand against it. She announced a greeting, but no frost messaged back. The Snow Queen hadn't even left any hearts.

"Hello?" Yeva said again, but received no reply.

So she lingered until she couldn't any longer, having to prepare breakfast for Rozie.

Later, at the shed, Yeva sanded out the wood. She glanced occasionally to the window, but found nothing but a clear surface. No flakes had come to even stick accidentally to it, the glass so violently clean Yeva only found her reflection, sometimes pausing long enough to forget what she was doing.

Eventually, she had to stop looking.

Without even her own voice, the air had grown quiet. Sometimes a stray breeze would whistle by, pushing up a few flakes, but it never carried the tune of the Snow Queen's voice. The crows had even stopped yelling to one another, and the only sound was Yeva's chisel tattooing a pattern into the leg of a chair.

When Rozie injected her voice upon arriving home, it startled Yeva. Her book bag shuffling as her little boots marked the snow, Rozie ran to her, who had dropped her tools but held out her arms for an embrace, regardless.

"Where is the Snow Queen?" Rozie asked. "I thought she would be outside."

"I'm not sure. She hasn't spoken to me today."

Rozie pulled out of the hug and narrowed her eyes. "You two didn't get in a fight, did you?"

"We can't fight if we haven't talked, Rozie. Why don't you mind your own business?"

"Because your business is really interesting!"

Yeva went to pinch Rozie's cheek, but she darted and ran away, laughing. Backpack rustling, she only made it about halfway to the house before Yeva scooped her up, capturing her in a bear hug and falling into the snow. She kissed her cheeks as Rozie screamed and giggled.

" _Stop!_ " Rozie was laughing as she hollered.

"I'll only let you go if you promise to do your homework."

"I was going to do it anyway!"

"Then do you promise?"

"Yes, I promise!"

Yeva let Rozie go, who caught her breath and brushed the snow from her light pink coat. Kissing her on the cheek one last time, Yeva stood and did the same. Upon returning to work, she found Rozie lingering at the back door. Her eyes wandered, seeming to fall directly into the old snow in the middle of the yard, hesitating to go inside.

"I'll tell you if she shows up!" Yeva called to her.

"Okay!" Rozie answered, and after a few seconds, went in.

The next day followed the same pattern. Yeva awoke and waited by the window, but never received her 'good morning' in cursive. She went to the shed and never read her 'good afternoon,' and after putting Rozie to bed, never found any 'good night.'

Truly alone, a familiar silence surrounded Yeva that hadn't for months. It existed in the air within her bedroom, and the space outside the work shed window. Breezes blew by, once capable of speaking, but no longer fluttered around her to whisper about town gossip, or how golden her hair looked that day.

Snow that would compact into Queens and creatures never knew animation past a few flakes in the wind. Even then, it had stopped falling, leaving only loose frost.

Every morning, Rozie would ask her, "Has she written yet?"

"No," became the exclusive answer.

She would ask after school, and less optimistically, again at dinner. By the third day, Yeva didn't answer.

"Is she okay?" Rozie posed to the silence.

"I don't know. I don't know why this is happening."

Not even the sound of a fork meeting a plate interrupted the silence, and neither looked at one another.

"Maybe…" Rozie began, fighting her way into the static. "Maybe this is because winter is almost over? She could be tired."

"I've considered that, but I thought she would at least say something before disappearing. If I just knew where the castle was—"

Yeva's voice cracked and in order to hug her, Rozie plopped from her chair and stole what parts of her she could.

Days continued. Yeva went to the market with Rozie and the silence that followed them. The trip adhered to the same series of usual events, with Rozie announcing the quality of their furniture at unsuspecting passers-by, but beneath the gaze of the Snow Queen's statue, Yeva paid little attention.

Turning toward her for minutes at a time, Yeva observed her features, which had altered slightly with the warming weather. Her glass-sharp stare had dulled and the exact outlines between the features of her face had melted together. The realistic masterpiece of her statue was transforming into an impressionistic rough draft.

Whenever approached for a transaction, Yeva snapped back to attention with alarm.

Customers asked her if the Snow Queen still helped with the designs.

"No," Yeva would say. "I haven't spoken to her in awhile."

"She tends to weaken at this time of year, but she'll be back again next winter." They told her, more often than not.

At that point, Yeva might look at the statue again—observing the mutating features of the Snow Queen's face, and after looking a moment, recorded the commission details.

That evening, the wolves didn't come. Dressed up just in case, they ate dinner and occupied the main room floor, playing a board game. Every once in a while, either sister looked out, only to find a darkening sky with few stars and no Queen. Even the countryside constellations dulled, as if the diamond in her crown had stopped reflecting light.


	13. Chapter 13

One day, it snowed.

Yeva awoke with chilled hands and goose-pimpled skin. When she looked to the window, a singular lop-sided heart awaited her, drawn by a shaky hand.

"Snow Queen!" Yeva approached the glass. "Where have you been?"

'I'm sorry.' The text appeared slowly, lagging between letters. 'I fell asleep for days. There were moments when I woke, but I couldn't rise from my sofa, nor could I go to the mirror. I've since moved it here, but—'

The print stopped. Having expanded over the window, it grew anemic towards the end. Her uneven cursive fell back to the snow around the house in patches, not cold enough to adhere to the glass.

"I'm relieved you're still here. I've missed you, My Queen."

'Oh, Yeva.' Those words managed to stay a bit longer. After they faded, however, neither added to the conversation. Yeva had placed her hand against the glass, and perhaps the Snow Queen had done the same, as the area around Yeva's palm felt colder.

"Will I still be able to see you?"

'Perhaps not as frequently, and certainly not during summer, but I imagine that you will.' A pause occurred. 'I'm not sure how this will work outside of winter, but I want to continue speaking.'

Yeva placed her hand against the glass. "We'll figure it out, Snow Queen. If I have to wait until next winter, that's what I'll do."

The Snow Queen accompanied Yeva outside that morning. She would mention Rozie passing a recent test, or how she had sold more chairs last week than expected, or ask a question. "Have you seen anything interesting in town, My Queen?" Or, "Did you have any dreams when you slept?"

'No,' her frost progressed into a pause. 'I didn't see anything.' Lengthy sentences took longer.'I didn't dream at all.'

Yeva went to the window and touched it. "You don't have to write if you're tired, Snow Queen. I'll be happy just knowing you're here."

'Thank you, Yeva.' The window lost its chill, but the words still came. 'I'll watch you.'

Every morning from that day, Yeva would awake to misshapen hearts on the window, but even then, she might not receive an answer. Sometimes they would melt before she witnessed it, leaving a watery splash where the ice had been, bloated around the edges.

Even still, Yeva placed her hand over it, and went about her day, looking into windows for changes. More often than not, she found none.

Another Saturday passed with a quiet board game. Sitting in the middle of the floor, they played a game called _Candy Adventure_. Rozie, having selected pink, held a slight lead over Yeva's yellow piece, despite staring out the window after rolling.

Yeva, progressing two steps and drawing a card, touched her arm, "Rozie, you have a cavity. Move back two places."

"What?"

"That's what this card says."

Reading it over, Rozie grumbled and moved her piece back, and tossed the dice without regarding the result.

"Rozie, you landed on a peppermint."

"Huh?"

"You get to move ahead three spaces plus the five you rolled."

As Rozie moved, Yeva too glanced to the window. A light snowfall descended into the backyard, fogging the glass.

"Do you think she'll come tonight?"

Yeva rolled the dice. "I don't know."

"I wish she would. Is she okay?"

"I don't know, Rozie." The dice had stopped at six, but Yeva didn't progress. Instead, she put her cheek over the cushion of her hand, exhaling.

Rozie moved it for her. "I miss her."

"I miss her too."

Neither the Queen nor her wolves came to them. Both went to bed as the wind rattled the walls of the house. The air had grown cold and Yeva woke at midnight, turning to the moonlight reflecting against the clock face.

She found her name in the window.

"Snow Queen, what's wrong?"

She took a long time to respond as the wind blew outside. The glass felt colder than it had over the last several months, and frantically, she wrote, 'I'm not sure I'll make it past spring.'

"What do you mean?"

'I'm dying.'

Both failed to speak, until the Snow Queen continued.

'I've felt so weak. I don't have the strength to move the palace north. I'm sorry.'

The text disappeared, replaced by more words printed at a speed that Yeva could hardly read. 'I've been weeping so much, which I'm sure doesn't aid the exhaustion. I feel so sad that I won't be able to speak to you any longer, but I'm grateful I experienced you and Rozie keeping me company.'

Yeva touched the window.

'You've made me feel,' the Snow Queen wrote around her fingers before beginning again. 'Perhaps that's the reason I'm coming apart this way, but this ordeal was my fault in the first place. I was angry. My husband wasn't a bad man, but I longed for a life where I didn't have to swallow my desires for obligation. I didn't kill my emotions. I buried them inside myself, where they manifested as ice.'

Yeva barely caught up and the Snow Queen erased, continuing.

'When he died, the pressure to appear sad was too much. I reached the peak of bitterness and transformed, changing my servants with me. I left my people. I had felt nothing for so long, but now that I've started feeling again, there's so much regret.' She stopped there.

"I'm sorry, Snow Queen. I never set out to hurt you."

'No,' The area where Yeva touched the window grew cold around the borders of her hand, like the Snow Queen pressed her palm against the glass as well. 'You're not to blame. I appreciate the happiness you've given me after twenty years of apathy. These emotions have given way to others, but the fault is mine for neglecting to acknowledge them.'

The glass grew colder.

'I've began to…' The Snow Queen didn't write for a while. 'I love you, Yeva.'

"Snow Queen." Yeva wiped her eyes. "I'm sorry—after everyone I've lost, I don't want to lose you too. I've missed you terribly—" She broke down, tears flowing until it emptied her.

The wind blew hard outside the window, creating a long _shhhhh_ —

'Yeva, will you come to me?'

"When?"

'Tonight. I'll place my castle where it was when you first came. Follow the path through town.' Her words were becoming thinner. 'I'll send my wolves.'

"Okay," Yeva said. "I'll be ready."

Erasing the tear stains, she stopped outside to go to Rozie's room. Getting as far as the hallway, she found Rozie standing outside, wiping her own eyes.

"Have you been listening the whole time?"

Rozie nodded. "Go to her."

Yeva scooped up her sister, kissing her forehead. "Be good."

"I will," Rozie promised as she squeezed Yeva back.

Both went to the back window, quietly waiting as the wind blew by, kicking up the old snow. Neither spoke. Rozie merely held Yeva's hand as minutes piled. Occasionally, Yeva squeezed her sister's hand a little harder, and finally, the carriage arrived.

Drawn by only one wolf without the Snow Queen, Yeva boarded the carriage as Rozie watched from the window. As soon as she took the reins, they were off.

In the hours of the morning, the wolf ran through the city, cutting through the pervasive silence deep and dark as the night. Only once did they pass a drunk wandering home from a long night at the bar, who may have glanced Yeva's way. She never caught his reaction. The wolf ran too fast to be anything more than a white blur against a white background, giving birth to more far-fetched rumors.

It didn't take long for Yeva to arrive at the castle, whose doors stood wide open for her. Even from the outside, she could see the disarray—the throne melted around its normally perfect edges, and the darkness obscuring the entire room. The central chandelier was melting too, its edges decrepit and formless.

Yeva stepped out of the carriage and, after the wolf had run away, walked inside the throne room. Like the night outside, it emitted silence, which Yeva cut with a call.

"Snow Queen?"

There was no answer, but Yeva ran to the right hallway, searching for a ballerina to point her in the correct direction.

The walls, lit by the occasional glow, shared nothing but empty space, yet Yeva heard gasping from one of the rooms. It sounded like crying, breathless and voiceless. Only the bodily act of heaving garnered sound.

Coiled in the middle of an empty room was a ballerina. Hunched over and on her knees, she was crying.

Where before the ballerinas appeared tranquil and unmoving, this one heaved. The smooth white of her snow-like skin had given away in places to reveal a light peach color, a backward leprosy that revealed normal skin within the wounds. Strands of ginger peaked through her hair, sprouts pushing through the snow. Yeva froze and stared.

"Are you alright?" she asked.

The ballerina pointed back to the throne room. "Past the dining room—" she whispered, "Go—"

Just then, a droplet of water hit Yeva's forehead. She hurried back to the throne room.

Yeva entered and followed the hallway behind where the Snow Queen would normally sit. It was a straight shot to another room, which opened as soon as Yeva drew close.

The chamber also had poor lighting, but in the back, the Snow Queen laid upon her sofa, beneath a luxurious white cloak. The other wolf, Anna, cuddled with her, whose ears perked when Yeva entered. Her mirror sat in front of her, which in spite of the warming state of the palace, had frozen over. The Queen's reflection distorted inside it.

"I'm sorry I couldn't send both wolves," she said. "Annushka wouldn't listen."

"That's not a problem. I'm here."

The Snow Queen closed her eyes. The poor lighting in the room accentuated the drastic shadows of her face. Her crown had begun to melt.

"Oh, Snow Queen," Yeva approached and kneeled next to her, touching her cheek, which wasn't nearly as cold as usual. Her deep winter transitioned to spring, as beads rolled along her face. The mirror-like surface of her eyes had melted blue, the hue of an icy lake soon to break apart.

Despite her labored breathing, the Snow Queen remained relatively still, as did Yeva. Both maintained their positions, with Yeva stroking the Snow Queen's face.

She had coaxed out a silver lock from behind her ear, stiff at its low temperature, but long and luxurious—perfect in its untouched state.

Looping it around her finger, Yeva said, "I'm sorry. I have no idea what to say. I'm so grateful for everything you've done for Rozie and I, and to think I did this to you—" She choked back tears that escaped anyway.

"I told you, I'm not upset. Even frozen, I doubt I could have lived forever, and if immortality were possible, I wouldn't wish to go on that way." The Snow Queen placed her hand upon Yeva's, holding it. "You always thank me for what I've done for you, but I should thank _you_ for what you've done for me. You've made me feel the emotions those old songs and poems went on about—that shock whenever I set my eyes upon you, the tortured impatience whenever I had to wait for your company. More than anything, I wanted to be in your light, and seeing you happy was worth more than every treasure in this palace. I never dared to think I was capable of experiencing such sensation."

Yeva began to cry. She gasped in choppy breaths and sobbed as a result, melting as profusely as the Snow Queen. Despite her deluge, she tried to keep her eyes open.

"My tough girl." The Snow Queen spoke through tears as well.

Yeva pressed her lips against the Snow Queen's, and like a string snapping, the dim lights disappeared alongside the shattering of a mirror. They held one another, but Yeva could no longer feel her grasping.

She broke the kiss to speak, "Snow Queen?"

Where there would have been an answer came the strained breaking of ice. Yeva immediately reached out to find only the Queen's cloak, masking a body. Moving quickly, she wrapped the extra fabric around it and ran into the hallway.

Somehow, without any exterior light, Yeva could see. The first three feet before her became visible, and she rushed past the corridor and into the dining room without tripping upon the table legs or the chairs.

Making it into the throne room, the moon overhead showed through a hole in the ceiling, its light coming down like hail.

Ice from above fell upon her, and while hitting her shoulders and back, it hardly deterred her.

Grasping the body close, Yeva crash-landed into the remaining snow. The palace collapsed into itself, shaking the ground as entire chambers collided with the hard earth.

Where the castle was before, a pile of ice had collected around Yeva's wooden throne, which stood unharmed. From the horizon, the sun rose behind it, converting the moisture in the air to a rainbow.

Drawn to the sound of a breath, Yeva looked behind her. A pair of knife-sharp blue eyes locked with hers, and both she and the woman before her stared.

Exhaling slowly, Yeva grew stuck on her long silver hair, and the little crow's feet around her eyes, and her long grey lashes that complemented her pale brows.

At first, the woman covered her mouth by a slightly wrinkled hand, through which she spoke, "You saved me." Her voice was quiet and lacked the booming quality of the Snow Queen's, but held the same tone and pitch. "You saved me!"

As soon as Yeva inhaled to speak, the woman tackled her to the ground in an embrace, weeping as someone who hadn't in twenty years. " _You saved me!_ " She repeated through tears, and kisses all over Yeva's face.

Yeva, too, returned the barrage, touching her lips to the woman's cheeks, chin, nose, and finally mouth, where they both settled for several seconds. Calming, they embraced one another, as the woman sank into Yeva's body, fitting perfectly now that she was smaller.

Breathless, Yeva asked, "What's your name?"

But the woman kept sobbing, and Yeva kept holding her, still layering kisses over whatever parts of her face she could.

Others began to arrive. First a set of women came, dressed like ballerinas. Behind them approached two Amazonian guards, wearing fine white uniforms. All of the attendants stopped and watched as their Queen kept crying, but even beneath their gazes, Yeva didn't stop kissing her.

Eventually, she calmed, and once having settled further into the embrace, Yeva told her, "I think your court is here to see you, My Queen."

Wiping the tears from her reddened face, the woman looked to them just as they looked back to her. Both parties remained stunned to silence as some of the ballerinas and both guards began to cry.

"I'm so sorry," the Queen began. "I'm sorry for what I've done to you, but it's wonderful—" her voice faltered, "to see you all again. I'm glad you're safe—" She came forward, tripping a bit on her human legs, and embraced as many servants as she could hold. The ones that fit outside her arms held her, until all of them had congealed into a firm group hug.

In the center of it, laughing while tearing up, the Queen looked to Yeva. Without needing to be told, she joined the pile as well, admitted by one of the guards.

"Yeva," the Queen said amidst the happy chatter, "I hate to ask this of you, but my ladies and I have nowhere to stay."

"Rozie and I will make as much room as we can."

"Thank you."

Once the embrace had ended, the Queen announced that they would go to Yeva's home. From the broken ice scattered on the ground, each of her servants took remnants of the leftover palace—the old paintings, the unbroken china, the jewels, the books, and in a box, they collected the shards of the shattered mirror.

On the way down the mountain, Yeva held her and her box of glass, as everyone else brought as much as they could carry.

"I'm Diana," she said a few steps down. The remaining snow melted around them.

"It's nice to meet you, Diana." Yeva kissed her on the lips.

Diana's pale cheeks pinkened as she released a sigh shaped like a gasp. "Oh, Yeva. You're glowing."

They continued into the city with their old paintings and treasures and Queen, where the statue had melted and everyone stared at them. As the people discovered Diana, they celebrated and some even followed the procession, but Yeva never set her down, and Diana never shied from kissing her, even with every pair of eyes pointed at them.


	14. Chapter 14

Sitting on her new throne, in her new throne room, in her new palace, Diana glanced outside and watched Yeva chop another piece of wood.

Spring had fallen upon them, and the morning sun shone brightly upon Yeva's golden hair as she set another piece on the chopping block. Rozie stood outside with her, chatting away. Yeva paused for a moment to wipe her brow and say, "Oh yeah?" To which Rozie might jump up and down, spill more words, and flap her arms in her school uniform.

Eventually, she pointed to the house, to which Rozie hugged her legs and ran inside, backpack rustling as she went.

Crash-landing into the throne room, she skidded toward Diana, who stood to greet her. Like she had countless times before, she made an imprint in the flowing skirts of her gown, to which Diana laughed and caught her, kissing her cheek.

"Have a nice day at school."

"Thank you!" Rozie kissed her back. "Have a nice day, Queen Diana!" Absconding, Rozie huffed and puffed to the front door and yelled on her way, "I love you! Goodbye!"

"Goodbye! I love you too!"

The guards opened the door for her, but not before she shouted to them, "Goodbye Anna and Katya! I love you!"

Both chuckled. "We love you too, Princess Rozie."

As Rozie left, Yeva entered, pausing for a moment. Diana came to embrace her.

"What should I build for you today, My Queen?"

"Oh, I don't know. Why don't you sit with me and we'll consider it?"

"Gladly."

Yeva and Diana took their places next to one another, occupying the throne rescued from the ice palace and one Yeva had recently constructed. Both parents, Diana, and her late husband stood next to a painting featuring Yeva and Diana, dressed like queens, holding one another.

Taking Diana's hand, Yeva kissed her cheek, and they discussed the possibility of a new bed.


End file.
